


18-3-4

by Linzo



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Heavy Angst, Reunion Sex, Speculation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:02:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25736230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Linzo/pseuds/Linzo
Summary: Nicole retreated to the homestead for 18 months, 3 weeks and 4 days and they were some of the longest days of her life. The angst makes that reunion so much sweeter.I wanted to get this out as a one-shot before the next episode because it is so much fun to speculate! Though, I do think the topic is certainly worthy of a multi-chapter exploration.
Relationships: Waverly Earp/Nicole Haught
Comments: 14
Kudos: 145





	18-3-4

"Nicole!"

Waverly's voice cut shrill through the cold of the winter morning. The sound snapped Nicole out of a sleep that was light from grief and the persistent ache in her casted leg. The only painkiller around the homestead was whisky and that had some undesirable side effects. Nicole wiped the crust out of her eyes. Did she dream that?

“Nicole!” Waverly’s voice repeated desperately. Nope, Nicole definitely did not dream that.

A woman with a broken leg never moved so fast. Nicole threw on some clothes, strapped her gun to her hip, grabbed her crutches, and hobbled out the front door, squinting against the golden light of the morning sun. She could not believe her eyes. While it had only been two weeks since she woke in an abandoned Monument hospital with a cast on her broken leg, it already felt like an eternity of waiting.

There she was, Waverly Earp, standing at the fence. Nicole crutched herself forward as much as she could in the snow, but it was awkward and slow. "Waverly?" She cried out, "Is that really you?"

Nicole opened her arms, crutches wide, in an invitation but Waverly stayed put, still at the edge of the homestead. Why wasn't Waverly coming to her? Waverly should be running towards her. Nicole's hand quickly went to the gun at her hip.

"Who are you?" Nicole yelled, her voice echoing across the quiet landscape.

The laugh that came out of Waverly was the most unnatural, unhuman thing Nicole had heard. Even when Waverly was possessed by Mictian, she still sounded human.

"Well, you are much smarter than the smokeshow, aren't you?" Waverly snarled. Her words dripped with acid and darkness, everything that Waverly wasn't.

"I said, who the fuck are you, and what did you do with Waverly?"

Nicole's jaw dropped when, suddenly, Waverly was Wynonna.

"Calm down Haught sauce, I'm Eve and I'm here to take my rightful place in the Ghost River Triangle."

"Whoever you are, you will have to take the homestead over my dead body and trust me, I've been shot, blown up, poisoned, stabbed and I fell into a room full of zombies. I’m still here!"

Eve stalked along the fence line, rage building in her body. "Well come over here so I can skin you alive! See how you survive that."

Nicole had a revelation. "You can't cross the property line can you?" She laughed and let her hand drift away from her gun. "You want the homestead, come and take it!"

With that Eve growled and slinked away. That wasn't the last of her though.

The following months were a nightmare.

Every morning, Nicole crossed off a day on the calendar. When she crossed off the sixth week, she was elated. It was finally time to remove the cast. It wasn't a pretty job, but she managed with a pair of tin snips that she found in the barn. She carefully worked her way through the plaster, making sure not to catch any skin in the process. The last thing she needed was stitches.

When her leg was finally free, she slid the discarded cast away and stared down at her legs. The broken one looked good on the surface, but it was skinny and foreign-looking. She ran her hand along the newly exposed skin. It felt good. The air felt good and even her own touch felt good.

Nicole nearly fell when she tried to put weight on the leg.

"Piece of shit," she grumbled looking down at the atrophied limb. Nicole wasn't a stranger to physio and recovering from injuries, so she began working on building up strength. She needed both legs working if she was going to survive.

Eve visited the homestead almost daily, tormenting Nicole with the voice of Waverly. Sometimes she screamed, cried, or pleaded. Sometimes she tried to seduce. If Nicole invited her onto the protected land, it would all stop. Nicole was determined though, she was going to defend the homestead until Waverly and Wynonna returned. They needed somewhere safe to come back to.

Nicole eventually found the pair of ear defenders that she humorously bought for Wynonna after a joke about loud sex. These would be her saviour. Whenever Eve would show up to torment Nicole, she would put on the ear defenders and think about all of the ways that her Waverly was beautiful.

Eve's corruption of Waverly endlessly terrified Nicole. What if Waverly came back and her voice had become so tainted in Nicole's mind from Eve's relentless torment. She was so afraid of only associating Waverly's voice with trauma and pain so she tried to block it out as much as possible. The ear defenders worked to an extent but on some nights she had to pair them with earbuds and music. She listened to songs that reminded her of Waverly. On the nights when she couldn't bear to think about Waverly she listened to songs that let the anger and determination burn in her heart.

Nicole worked through her days with robotic precision. Cross off the calendar, eat her rations, work her leg, and watch the treeline. She watched mostly for animals because at some point the homestead's stockpile of food would run out. She also watched for someone else, someone who would be welcome on the homestead.

Some nights Nicole sat out around the fire with a bottle of whisky and glared at Eve who shifted from person to person, testing at which might get under Nicole's skin the best. Those nights, Nicole was immovable, like a wall of anger cast around her vulnerable self. She gave Eve middle fingers that Wynonna would be proud of.

Other nights she cried herself to sleep in Waverly's bed, clutching a shirt that still smelled faintly of her. It was easy at first to push off the grief. Survive now, grieve later. But as the weeks and months wore on, the realization that the people she cared about were lost became impossible to ignore. Her lover, her best friend, were both gone and as much faith as she had, she wasn't entirely sure they would come back. She owed it to them to keep going, even though Nicole often wondered if she actually died in that lab and that this was hell.

The night Nicole would never forget, was the one that she emptied a full clip into Eve. Nicole was taking stock of her food supply. There were only a handful of days left. While she did manage to bag a deer, she needed more than just wild meat to survive. She was going to have to risk a supply run into Purgatory, or whatever had become of Purgatory. Nicole had counted the last bag of noodles when Eve arrived outside the fence.

“Nicole, please baby, I’m cold,” she pleaded sweetly.

Nicole growled and covered her ears. “You are not her. You are not her,” she muttered repeatedly under her breath as she stormed out the door and across the drive, right up to the property line.

“Come on baby, just let me inside and we can warm up together,” Eve chimed as Waverly.

Nicole glared as she unholstered her gun. “You. Are. Not. Her,” she spat, rage punctuating each word. Suddenly, Nicole let loose and shots echoed across the landscape until there were only empty clicks and Eve as Waverly slumped to the ground, blood spilling around her.

“Baby…” Eve’s voice was wet with blood and Nicole, her rage smothered by the immediate need to throw up, realized she made a grave mistake. Nicole retched and emptied her stomach of precious nutrition.

Eve cackled, her voice still saturated with blood, but she stood and stretched her body in an unhuman way as if it had never been riddled with bullets in the first place. She stared down at Nicole who was still crouched down on the ground.

“Mmm, maybe I was wrong about you being the smart one? I’ll gladly play this game again if you want to waste more bullets. Who should I be next?” Eve asked. But Nicole had already turned away, pulled her ear defenders on, and retreated to the house, determined not to let Eve see her cry. She had to put music on that night to drown out Eve's self-satisfied cackling. Nicole didn’t sleep that night, not with what she saw, not with the seemingly endless sobs that wracked her body.

***

Food eventually ran out and Nicole had to make an emergency run to Purgatory. It felt like a ghost town. The streets were empty and citizens peered afraid through their windows. Nicole stopped in at the station, which was abandoned. The guns were all gone, but she managed to get into her locker where her bulletproof vest was stored. She also scooped up an abandoned camo jacket. She was going to have to keep warm and she didn't know what she would need when winter inevitably returned. She raided the grocery store, grabbing as many cans, and dried goods as she could carry in her bag.

It felt good having the home well stocked again. Hopefully, Nicole wouldn't have to make another run because she felt like she got off lucky this time. Knowing she had enough food to last her many months brought relief and a new sense of purpose.

When she was satisfied with the strength of her healed leg, Nicole hung a sack of grain in the barn to use as a punching bag. The first time she used it, she punched the thing until her knuckles were bloody and her body was exhausted. Being in the barn brought a flood of memories. Stolen moments, life or death fights, declarations of love. Nicole sat on a crate, chest heaving with exertion and she couldn't help but watch the blood seep out of her knuckles.

"Haught, you dumbass," she admonished herself before her tears began to flow as well. She cried for lost Wynonna who would be the first to crack a wise assed remark. She cried for lost Waverly who would have been there to bandage her up. She cried for herself who was left alone to defend this godforsaken place. She let the tears flow until there were none left.

When she pushed herself up off the crate she thought, "at least I can still shoot a gun with bloody knuckles."

Defend. Train. Sleep. Repeat.

If Nicole was good at survival before, she had mastered it over her time at the homestead.  
Six months in, it all felt like clockwork. She had a freezer full of moose and some deer, more than enough meat for one person for over a year. On her rare supply runs to Purgatory she loaded up on cans and she dried all of the fresh fruits and vegetables that she could. It was a good thing she stocked up when she did because it quickly became dangerous for her in Purgatory, even on short visits. While the town was back to life, there was no one helpful or sympathetic left. They were all with Eve and they knew Nicole on sight. Anyone who betrayed Eve or her followers was hung in the street as a warning.

Soon it wasn’t just Eve visiting Nicole. Citizens of Purgatory, or rather fanatics of Eve, began to rush the homestead. Because they were human, they were able to cross the property line. Some took Nicole's warning shots seriously and left to take their chances with Eve, some ignored them. Nicole did what she needed to protect the homestead.

Winter came and Nicole tried her best to keep busy around the house. She found the time to patch and paint Jeremy's hastily carved message on the staircase. She worked her body even when feelings of sadness and futility made her muscles heavy and slow. Loneliness still crept in.

Nicole put up lights for Christmas, but she didn't have the heart to take them down after. They reminded her of her Waverly. Nicole couldn't help but think that hearing Waverly's genuine laughter instead of Eve’s cackle would be the best Christmas present ever.

After being isolated for so many months there was no way to trust anyone who approached the homestead. What if they were under Eve's influence? What if the people she used to trust were coming to try and take the homestead from her? Nedley showed up one summer day. Nicole pleaded with him to turn around and leave, firing a single shot into the sky. She'd already shot too many and her heart couldn't bear shooting the man that was like a father to her.

Nedley stared at her with a mixture of pride and sorrow. "Stay safe Nicole," he shouted from the gate before he turned and left the homestead.

Eve still came, as enraged as ever. Sometimes she watched as her followers charged the homestead, only to be shot down by Nicole. She screamed and howled as Waverly, swore and insulted as Wynonna, and pleaded as Jeremy.

Nicole continued to use the time that Eve visited to reflect and remember her Waverly. She imagined the feel of her lips on hers, the feel of their skin gliding, and how their bodies inexplicably fit together. Some days Nicole would think of how Waverly would sigh beneath her, how she tasted of arousal. How her body arched and cried out with pleasure. Those days Nicole would hold herself through the skin hunger and that unmistakable need for human touch; for Waverly's touch.

Some days she'd just sit and remember Waverly's smiles. The small shy ones, and the full beaming ones that brought out all of her beautiful smile lines. She mostly thought of the smiles that were meant just for Nicole. Those smiles were full of love and longing and the brightest future.

The worst nights were when she couldn't keep down the regret and sorrow. She played Waverly's proposal over and over in her mind until tears streaked endlessly down her face and grief shook her body. It felt like she had that bright future ripped from her arms.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but what I wouldn't give to have Wynonna here to drug me again so I could actually sleep." There was no one to hear her, but there was the small hope that putting a desperate wish into the universe might manifest something.

***

On a winter day, Nicole was scanning the treeline at sunset. Sleep did not come easy to Nicole the night prior and her eyelids were heavy, the strain of constant vigilance weighed on her. Nicole's eyes drooped closed for what felt like a second, but maybe it was more.

A crunch of footsteps snapped Nicole out of her daze. She saw a person, dressed in white and pink, running towards the homestead with the speed and desperation of an Eve fanatic. She leveled her gun out the window and shot two warning shots, clipping a tree, before she burst out onto the front porch.

"Eat shit, shit eater!" She yelled and pointed her long gun, "I'm warning you, no trespassing!"

The woman stopped and everything in Nicole's body softened at the sight of Waverly Earp standing in front of the porch; standing on the ground that continued to deny Eve. Months of vigilance and hardness melted away in a rush. She felt vulnerable and atrophied like her long healed leg finally released from its cast.

"Waverly?" Tears sprang up in Nicole's eyes as she put her gun down and caught Waverly who barreled into her. Nicole never gave up hope, but there were days that it started to fade when survival was the only goal.

"Are you real?" Nicole barely controlled her sobs.

"Are you?" Waverly replied.

Nicole shook her head in disbelief. "Get in here and check," she gasped before pressing her lips to Waverly's.

It was something she had thought about almost every day, the softness of Waverly's lips. No matter how hard she tried to remember, her memory did not do it justice. The need and emotion welled up in Nicole's chest. It was an almost uncomfortable pressure. 18 months, 3 weeks, and 4 days alone, there was so much to tell Waverly, but right now her body was loud and she needed to show Waverly without talking.

They pushed through the homestead door, lips inseparable. Clothes came off in a flurry, scattered about the homestead floor. Nicole had never needed to feel Waverly's touch like she did that moment. Her body was starving. Nicole pressed Waverly against the wall, her mouth finding every new piece of skin that was revealed. She buried her face in the delicate curve of Waverly’s neck and was flooded with the scent that belonged exclusively to Waverly.

Urgent, and slightly frantic, they slid to the floor. Nicole revelled in the contrast between the hardwood against her back and the impossible softness of the woman above her.

“Upstairs?” Waverly suggested breathlessly after a time. Nicole nodded.

Waverly led Nicole by the hand up the stairs, but Nicole's legs froze. She couldn’t bear to wait any longer. She’d already waited too long and the fear that she’d lose Waverly again, even in those short steps up to her room, tore at her soul. Panic threatened to spill out if she didn’t have Waverly right there.

In another life, Nicole may have laughed slyly at what transpired on those stairs; at the thought of not being able to even make it into the bedroom. But in this life, Nicole poured herself wordlessly into Waverly with no shame. Months of suffering let free, soothed by the sensory rush that was her Waverly. Nicole was surrounded by the softness of Waverly’s legs. Her mouth was flooded with Waverly’s taste. And the sounds. Oh, the sounds were pure to Nicole’s ears. They were something special, just for Nicole, that Eve could never dream of replicating.

Nicole moved against Waverly’s body like it was the first time and the last time. This was real. This was tangible and yet Nicole felt like their bodies still couldn’t get close enough. She moved desperately, her body seeking pleasure, release, a balm for the relentless craving. It was only then that Nicole let herself truly feel vulnerable.

As their bodies calmed, they sat intertwined, chests heaving. Nicole was almost afraid to move as if she would break the moment and snap back into those long months of loneliness. But no, Waverly was here, she was real and Nicole couldn’t stop staring.

Waverly laughed softly and Nicole swore that it felt like Christmas.


End file.
